The Future Is No Escape
by Xaja Silversheen
Summary: Slightly AU. While fleeing from Darth Sion, Atton is sucked into a new time and place- but unfortunately, Darth Sion came with him. And Sith Lords hold grudges... No OCs. Collaboration with Jedi Master Luthien. On permanent hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We own not.**

**This is the combined genius of myself (Xaja Silversheen) and the amazing Jedi Master Luthien. The story behind this concerns a crossover role-play game we both play, in which we come up with crazily awesome crossover pairings- including the one that inspired this...**

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He ducked as another blaster bolt thudded into the wall above his head. Flinching from the heat that the passing missile inflicted on his face, he whipped one lightsabre behind his head, deflecting two more bolts before his boot found a small dip in the terrain. He barely stopped a yelp as he tripped. _Sith... I hope Mical didn't see that- the little goody-goody would never have let me forget it. _He scooted along his belly until he made it to a small starfighter. Slipping behind the wing of the craft, he looked around.

He didn't see any of his traveling companions anywhere. He decided calling them was worth the risk. "Exile! Mira!"

Silence.

Atton Rand risked a peep around the wing of the starfighter that he was taking refuge behind. "Bao-Dur? Visas?" He suddenly yelped and jerked himself back as the ground around him exploded with blaster bolts. "Sith dammit!"

A cold laugh answered the young Jedi pilot. "Aww... Does Atton Rand miss his friends?" More blaster bolts hit the ground beside the starfighter, showering Atton with dirt.

Atton scowled. "Damn you, Darth Sion," he muttered under his breath, looking around for an escape route. Sion just wouldn't die. Not only had Atton erroneously assumed he himself killed the Sith Lord, the Exile had assured him she'd destroyed Sion's will and convinced him to let go of the Dark Side. Apparently the Sith Lord was very good at playing dead.

Atton could only hope that his companions were able to flee without him. Casting out with the Force, he could just sense Mira's presence, several hundred metres away, much closer to the _Ebon Hawk_ than he was. He didn't think the bounty hunter was hurt, which brought him some measure of relief. But he knew he'd never be able to get to her or to the Hawk without being blown to bits by Darth Sion's assassin minions- if the Sith didn't come after him himself.

His companions would probably all be able to get to the _Hawk_- and the Exile would never leave without them. Atton had little worry about their survival. The faint whine of ship engines that came to his ears confirmed his theory that the others were fine. Now he had only to get off-planet himself.

He eyed the ship above him, which he assumed had belonged to Kreia. Could he...

Atton heard the infuriated roar from Darth Sion. "Curse you, Exile!" The Sith turned away from Atton's starfighter refuge for only a moment to yell at the _Ebon Hawk_.

It was enough. The besieged pilot hastily scrambled up into the cockpit and got the hatch down just as Darth Sion turned around. Enraged, the Sith Lord shook his fist at Atton before turning and running for his own starfighter.

_I gotta get out of here_, thought Atton. He quickly took off, all-too aware of Darth Sion closely pursuing him. As soon as he cleared the atmosphere, he looked around. The _Ebon Hawk_ was nowhere in sight. _That could be problematic._ Throwing his shields up as tightly as he could, he took off for the fairly-close by Outer Core. His hope lay in getting to Nar Shaddaa- perhaps with so many people around, he could lose Darth Sion.

He vehemently cursed in Huttese when he saw the Sith Lord's ship catching up to him on the radar. Giving his starfighter all the speed he could muster, he started to pull away from the Sith's spacecraft, only to stall.

"What now?" Atton smacked the console of the starfighter in frustration. "Work, dammit!" He attempted to give the vessel more power, and felt a spark of relief when he heard the whine of engines- only to have that relief negated by the fact that he was moving... backwards?

The console started to beep a warning. "Yeah, I know Sion's- What?" Double-taking at the screen, Atton tapped the console before twisting in his seat to look behind him. All he saw was blackness. "That's odd..." He looked at the console again before eyeing the dark mass behind him. "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered to himself. He knew there were no other planets or moons around to cast a shadow- and even if there had been, he should still be able to see the pinpricks of light that were other stars in the-

_No._ Atton felt the blood drain from his face as he realized what he was up against. "Not a black hole! Not now!" Desperately, he tried to maneuver away from the black hole, but to no avail. His one comfort, if one could call it that, was the sight of Darth Sion being pulled into the black hole as well. He could only hope that T3-M4 had managed to get the _Hawk_ away from the black hole- he didn't want his friends (or Mical) to die with him.

The gravitational pull turned his starfighter around to face the black hole. Atton gulped when he saw the huge black mass in front of him. _Oh, Sith... This is not how I thought I was gonna die..._ He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for death and immersing himself in the Force one final time.

He wasn't expecting the Force to whisper, _Not yet, Atton. It is not your time._

_But how-_ Atton didn't have time to think anymore. For he had been pulled into the black hole and had to strain his eyes to see anything. He could just make out the shape of Darth Sion's starfighter beside him before the blackness became complete. He could sense that he was falling... listening to cracks in his ship's hull and viewscreen... struggling to breathe against the immense gravitational pressure on his chest... falling... blackness...

Light. Spinning. His ears popped. A very-disoriented Atton desperately tried to right his starfighter as he came sailing through space. He managed to straighten it for a bit, long enough for him to make out the shape of a planet in front of him. _What? But there was no planet behind us... except Malachor V, and that only had seconds left! What the Sith is going on?_ And ships tended to stay away from Malachor after the Mandalorian Wars. This planet, on the other hand...

Atton looked at his console. However, going through the black hole had evidently done something bad to his computer, and now the screen was blank. "Blast..."

He yelped and went into a spiral as his fighter was hit. Evidently Darth Sion's weapons were still online, and the Sith was putting them to good use. Atton aimed his fighter as best as he could for the planet in front of him, figuring that it would be a safe place for him to hide. Besides, his fighter sounded like it was about to fall apart on him and he would much rather have to eject in an atmosphere.

He groaned with the effort of keeping the fighter under control as he approached the planet, all too aware of Darth Sion behind him, still shooting at his damaged craft. As the starfighter went into a spin, he caught a glimpse of the glimmering buildings that rose high into the planet's atmosphere. _What is this? It's too ritzy to be Nar Shaddaa... _It looked almost like Coruscant, except for the minor detail that Coruscant was in the Core, and Malachor V was in the Outer Rim...

Atton shook his head. Today was turning out to be possibly one of the worst days he'd had in a while. And it only got worse when he felt the nasty hit to the back of his ship that sent him lurching forward. Sniffing, he paled when he caught a whiff of smoke. _Smoke? This thing's gonna blow!_

Grabbing an oxygen mask to sustain him in the thin upper atmosphere, he fumbled around in the near darkness for a moment before finding the eject button. He activated it, and closed his eyes as he felt himself fly up into the cold night air. He pulled his arms tightly across his chest, both to conserve heat and to shield himself as his starfighter exploded in a ball of fire. Then he was falling, faster and faster toward the ground of this strange planet until he disappeared into the shadows...

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**Reviews make Luthien and I very, very happy people... *hint hint***

**Thanks for reading! And if anyone knows where my plot bunnies for Castaway and Unwanted Heir went off too, could you send them up to Canada, please? I kinda miss them...**

**That is all.**

**Xaja and Luthien**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: We still don't own Star Wars. If we did own it, Atton Rand would live in Jedi Master Luthien's closet, and Obi-Wan Kenobi would live under my bed. (And we might trade occasionally.) But we can dream...**

**I swear I meant for this to be updated last semester. I have only recently dug my muse out of a massive stack of papers and files and essays and the like, and I think it's sulking. So, no, I have no idea when the muse is going to let me update Castaway. No Longer Missing and Unwanted Heir are on permanent hiatus- sorry, guys! (For that matter, I'm not sure when my professors will let me update anything...)**

**Ahem. On with the chapter.**

**Hiya: *points at coming chapter* XD Thank you!**

He was grateful that he'd managed to eject into the atmosphere of this planet, as opposed to the vacuum of space. However, he was still bloody cold, although he could feel the air around him heating up as he sped toward the ground.

Atton risked a glance down. He couldn't see the ground, which he decided was a very bad thing. All he could see in the darkness was the glow of speeder lights as the vehicles zipped back and forth amongst the brightly-lit buildings that he was falling between. _Maybe, with any luck, I'll land on a speeder and not get killed._

At least Sion seemed to have assumed that the pilot smuggler had perished in the explosion. Atton couldn't see or hear any sign of the Sith's starfighter chasing him through the atmosphere.

He scowled as his oxygen bottle ran out of air. Letting go of the life-saving device, he watched it seemingly float away from his rapidly-falling body, probably to join the massive amounts of garbage produced by the planet. At least he was far enough into the atmosphere that he could breathe somewhat easily. He caught glimpses of speeders whizzing by on either side of him, and occasionally saw a startled glimpse from one of the occupants of the said vehicles. But none diverted to rescue the falling-

"Oooof!" He yelped as he landed hard on a passing speeder. Upon hearing a startled cry above him, he looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes.

Atton was never sure who was more surprised- himself, or the pretty woman into whose lap he had just literally fallen. He eventually came to the conclusion that it was the latter, for the girl immediately tried to shove him off the speeder. "Get off of me, you slimebag!"

"Do you always greet people this way?" asked Atton, grabbing the girl's shoulder to keep from resuming his plummet toward the planet. "Because that's not very nice."

The woman glared at him and tried to shake him off. "Oh, and dropping on my lap like that was?"

"Hey, sweetheart, it's not every day someone like me just drops out of the sky! You should consider this your lucky day!" Atton managed to right himself behind the woman, still hanging onto her leather-covered shoulders. Now that he wasn't in immediate danger of being shoved off the speeder, he could study his unwitting saviour. A few strands of jet black hair that had escaped the two neatly tied pigtails and the solitary long braid tickled his nose and eyes. By craning his neck, Atton could glimpse a pale face, with well-defined cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and a fine, petite mouth that was currently set in a scowl.

"What's your problem? Someone burst your ego and send you flying?" Her voice was cold as ice- although Atton thought it was a fairly pretty voice, despite the hostility.

"Not a chance, sweetheart. I just saw a pretty girl like you and figured you needed someone as handsome as me to-" Whatever else he was going to say was lost in a yelp as he clung to the girl's waist, the speeder going into a flip. "Are you trying to get us both killed here?"

"Excuse me, but I wasn't looking for some scruffy-looking sleazeball to drop in on MY speeder and scare the hell out of me!"

"But you like it." Atton smirked, even with his life in peril from an angry woman. He'd always enjoyed a challenge, and this girl was proving to be something else. "So, d'ya have a name or do I have to make something up?"

He was rewarded with an angry glare over the woman's shoulder. She tried and failed to elbow him off the speeder again before giving up and growling out an answer. "Keto."

"Keto? Pretty name for a pretty girl. Got a last name?"

"That _is _my last name," snapped the girl.

The smirk broadened as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist for stability. "No first names, then? Pity, that... But listen, sweetheart, I need you to take me to the nearest cantina or-" He abruptly lost his train of thought when he felt two metal cylinders attached to the girl's belt. They were several inches long, and, if the buttons he could feel were any indication, were...

_Lightsabres?_ Go figure- Atton _would_ have the luck to fall onto a Jedi's lap. Although, he had to wonder who this Keto was. _Does the Exile know who she is? And if so, why hasn't this chick been looking for the Exile?_ He caught a glimpse of a large building up ahead and groaned. He may have never set foot in that building, but he had seen enough holoimages to know what it was. _And how the hell did I end up on Coruscant? If that's not the Jedi Temple, I'll eat my jacket._

He thought about that statement for a bit before retracting it. There was no knowing where his jacket had been, and it was probably better to not know the details.

Atton yelped as the speeder shook again. "Kriff, sweetheart! I ask again- are you trying to get us both killed?" He wrapped his arms around Keto's petite frame and grabbed at the controls of the speeder.

One leather-covered arm smacked against his. Atton winced; that was going to leave a bruise. "Let go!" Keto managed to wrest control of the speeder from him and aimed for the Temple.

"Blast it all, Jedi! Is taking me to a cantina really that hard of a task?" Atton wondered what would be the lesser of two ill fates: jumping back off the speeder, or being stuck in the Jedi Temple.

"Well, pardon me if I didn't ask to have some creep land on me and try to hijack my speeder!" snapped Keto. She took the speeder into a quick descent onto the top of the Temple. Atton had the vaguest sense that she was listening to something in the Force. _Another Jedi? With my luck today? Probably- wait, are there even other Jedi alive? What the kriff is going on?_

It was time for one last-ditch attempt to avoid capture by any other Jedi who could be working with Keto. Atton reached his arms around Keto again and managed to grasp hold of the speeder controls with one hand. "Don't take me to the Temple, Keto."

"Or what?" Keto elbowed Atton in the ribs again, as hard as she could.

"Just trust me!" Atton jerked at the controls, trying to get the speeder elevated again. However, Keto picked that same moment to shove at his arm, messing up his control of the speeder. The vehicle immediately plummeted the remaining metres toward the landing port of the Temple. "Oh, great, now look what you've done!"

"_Me?_ You're the one who tried to hijack my vehicle and nearly crashed us!" Keto tried to straighten out the speeder, but to no avail.

"You should have listened when I asked you to take me elsewhere!" yelled Atton indignantly. Risking a glance at the Temple below him, he could see brown-clad figures scurrying about. The Force warned him that the Jedi below him were quite aware of his and Keto's fall from the sky and were coming to see what was wrong. Atton was alarmed enough by the thought of crashing that he didn't stop to ponder why there were so many Jedi in the Temple. _Oh, kriff..._

Keto opened her mouth to snap a reply back at her passenger, but was distracted by the speeder crashing into the landing pad of the Temple. With a grunt, the female Jedi managed to jump away from the wreckage, landing on her feet on the durasteel surface before whipping around, two green lightsabres activated and in her hands. Atton sighed before pulling off a similar feat. However, despite his Echani training, he didn't have a lifetime of Jedi grace trained into his muscles, and tripped over a scrap of metal from the wrecked speeder. He caught himself on his hands and rolled, finally managing to come to a stop a fair distance from the wrecked vehicle. Sighing in relief that he was alive, he rolled over-

And was brought to a stop in his motions by the presence of a third green lightsabre, held uncomfortably close to his vulnerable neck. Atton's eyes followed the green blade up to a slightly-older man, with blond hair tied behind his head, dark brown Jedi tunics, and a deep frown on his face. _Blast, how many of you Jedi are there?_

In one fluid motion, Atton raised a hand and brought the Dark Side to bear, allowing lightning to shoot out of his fingertips at the older Jedi. The man barely had time to cry out in shock before the lightning caught him, forcing his body to arch and the lightsabre to go flying before he was thrown against the wall. Atton allowed the man to slide to the floor, stunned, before a cry of anger alerted him to danger behind him. He spun around, barely dodging the two green blades that slashed through the open area where his head had been only a moment earlier. Dancing backwards out of Keto's reach, he reached to his belt and grabbed one of his lightsabres, quickly activating the yellow blade.

Keto hesitated when she saw the lightsabre. Atton eyed her before smirking. "What, did you think I was some Sith, Keto?" He instinctively checked to make sure his mental shields were as far up as he could get them- he didn't need the Jedi picking up on the fact that he was as startled to not see red 'sabre blades as she was.

Appearing to get over her surprise, Keto narrowed her eyes at Atton. "You've not done much to convince me otherwise!" She leapt at Atton, both green 'sabres swinging.

Atton backed up a step and activated his second yellow 'sabre, blocking her surprisingly powerful attack before striking back. "Beg your pardon if that's not high on my list of priorities right now, sweets!"

Her blades crossed to catch his. "Don't call me that." On the other side of the interlocked 'sabres, Atton could see Keto's fierce scowl.

"Why? You like it, don't deny it." Atton smirked as he freed his blades before swinging both- one at Keto's neck, the other at her feet. "Or do you Jedi have other pet names for each other?"

Keto's only answer was to block both strikes before leaping with the Force, moving a bit faster than Atton anticipated. He was only aware of a brown blur coming at him before what felt suspiciously like a boot snapped up into his jaw, making him reel backwards and drop one 'sabre. _Oh, Sith, that hurt!_ He blinked, aware that he hadn't slept in hours- before he fought an undead Sith Lord for the Exile, fled said Sith Lord, flown through a black hole, fallen however-many thousands of metres through the Coruscant atmosphere and had his life turned upside down by the discovery of more Jedi. In short, he was too tired to duel for long- and unfortunately for him, Keto appeared to be very energetic and ready to destroy him.

"You've asked for it!" snarled Atton, spitting blood to the side. One hand extended toward Keto as he focused on the Dark Side of the Force. He couldn't summon up enough energy for another burst of Force Lightning, so he settled for throwing Keto hard against a wall. The girl only had time for a frightened yelp before she smacked into the wall and collapsed, unconscious.

Atton smirked- that Jedi was no different than the others. He picked up his other lightsabre and turned- just in time to block the seemingly-recovered Master's strike at his neck. Atton raised an eyebrow. "That your apprentice?"

"Aye. And you picked the wrong Master to mess with," growled the man before leaping at Atton, lightsabre flashing.

Atton laughed as he deflected the Master's attack. "Oh, really? If you taught her that, you'll be as easy to take down as she was!" He slashed at the Master's chest, only to be blocked and Force-shoved away. The Master promptly came at Atton again, moving ridiculously fast. _Kriff... he knows Force Speed,_ cursed Atton to himself, suddenly hard-pressed to defend himself against the angry Jedi.

Atton was reluctant to admit it, but this Jedi was definitely one of the best swordsmen he had ever seen- Exile included. He had seen plenty of Jedi during his days under Revan who were extremely skilled with a blade, but this man was simply a master of the art- and an angry master of the art, at that. Atton soon found himself being forced to back away from the furious Master, further from Keto's crumpled body toward an empty section of the roof. The Force gave Atton a little prick of warning, but he ignored it, focusing more on trying to keep the green blade away from-

There was a crashing sound under Atton's feet. The pilot felt his feet suddenly fall through the roof as the ceiling of the room below him caved in. He just caught a glimpse of the Master catching himself and backing away from the hole in the Temple roof before Atton's vision was filled with grey walls. He dimly was aware of the startled cries of Jedi around him- _More Jedi? Does the Exile know there's practically an entire Order hiding in the Temple?_- before he fell through a second hole in the floor.

An eternity later, or so it seemed, Atton finally stopped falling, having landed hard on the tile floor of a floor perhaps two or three stories from the roof. He was vaguely aware of people rushing up to him before his vision faded to a merciful, painless blackness.

**I just realized how much I was channelling Jim Kirk when writing Atton. *shrugs* Oh well. First draft, I was evidently channelling Jack Sparrow...**

**Anyway. Moving on. **

**Again, our sincerest apologies for not updating sooner. And I will try my darndest to pry something out of the muse for Castaway. Promise!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Xaja and Luthien**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: We still don't own Star Wars. If we did own it, Atton Rand would live in Jedi Master Luthien's closet, and Obi-Wan Kenobi would live under my bed. (And we might trade occasionally.) But we can dream...**

**Hello, there's a fanfiction account here. My apologies for shoving this to the side whilst trying to cope with end-of-semester stress, a missing muse, MST's out the wazoo, travelling hither and yon and getting a job- which does not leave much time for writing anything. Woot for manual labour?**

**Anyway. Many thanks to all those who have read this- and especially to GuardianXAngel and Fan-Tasticly-Lame for their helpful critiques of this project. I'd forgotten, before GuardianXAngel mentioned, that not all of my readers have played Knights of the Old Republic II, and therefore have no idea who Atton Rand and Darth Sion are. With any luck, that shall be somewhat amended in this chapter. (And then you will all go find a copy of the game, play it, and become Atton!fangirls. Unless you like blond rule-abiding healers, in which case you will become Mical!fangirls. Unless you're a fanboy- then I have no idea what you will become. XD)**

**Hiya: *evil cackle***

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

An annoying, persistent beeping was the first thing to make its way through the fog of unconsciousness that Atton found himself in. He groaned and turned his head in an attempt to escape the irritating noise. _Ohhh, not doing that again! _His head hurt as though an overweight bantha had sat on it, and the rest of his body didn't feel much better.

One eye cracked open. Atton saw pale grey walls, a similarly-coloured ceiling, what appeared to be a medical droid in the corner. There was a smell in the air that made him think of kolto and the _Ebon Hawk_'s medical bay. His wrists were immobile, for some reason. Atton's forehead creased in confusion; _Why can't I move? _He reached out for the Force to figure out what was-

He couldn't touch the Force.

_Okay, Rand. Don't panic. You've either got one hell of a hangover, or that dream about falling through a roof in the Jedi Temple wasn't a dream and you've got a concussion. Deep breath... Okay. _Atton forced both eyes wide open and looked around, quickly confirming that he was in some medical ward. He was bound by both wrists to a sleep couch with binder cuffs, preventing him from leaving the couch. An intravenous line led from his left arm to a sac of some clear fluid above him. Behind his head, whatever machine was making the persistent noise that had woken Atton up had increased the rate of the beeps. _Beep, beep, beep..._

"Oh, shut up," growled Atton at the machine as he struggled to sit up a bit. He groaned as the medical droid in the corner whirred, making its way over to him. _Kriff, I hate droids... _**"**Where am I?"

"You are in the Jedi Temple's healing ward," answered the droid in a feminine-sounding monotone.

"The Temple?" Atton glared down at his bound wrists. "Oh, that explains this. Can I get these binders off?"

"I'm sorry," answered the droid, who really didn't sound that apologetic, "but for the safety of everyone involved, the binder cuffs may only be removed by authorized personnel. Remain still- your injuries were serious, although not life-threatening, and are-"

"I'm fine," growled Atton, thinking of all the lovely things he'd love to do to this droid. "Just get me someone who can explain to me what the hell is going on and-"

"Calm down, you must. Great anger I sense in you, yes." The bearer of this new voice, a short green alien with a cane, hobbled into the room. The alien, presumably a Jedi, leaned on the stick to stare up at Atton with huge green eyes. "Infectious, your feelings are. Dangerous, this is."

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Atton. "Who are you, and what do you want with me?"

"Calm yourself, intruder." The alien sternly glared at Atton. "That question to you, we wish to ask. Any wonder it is, that detained you have been?"

"Wha- Oh, that wasn't a juma-induced delirium?" Atton groaned. "Today's just getting better and better."

"Hmm." One large ear swivelled at Atton. "How feel you?"

Atton scowled up at the ceiling. "Like I've fallen through a few stories of a building that isn't supposed to be occupied, after getting blown out of a starfighter, falling through a few layers of atmosphere and getting both Jedi and Sith furious with me. So, fantastic."

"Benefit you, sarcasm will not," warned the alien as he hobbled toward the door. "If feel so fine, you do, then face the Council you must."

"The Coun- Oh, you've got to be joking," muttered Atton, as two Jedi Knights replaced the green midget.

Neither of the new Jedi answered Atton. Instead, the blond-haired human man in the dark tunics swiftly bound Atton's hands behind him with the binder cuffs while the blue-skinned Twi'lek watched, deactivated lightsabre hilt in her hands. Atton, feeling slightly ill from the concussion and obviously unarmed, submitted without a fight. Evidently word of a stranger who'd attacked two other Jedi on the roof of the Temple got around quickly, and these Jedi apparently weren't about to take any chances with Atton. And he certainly wasn't suicidal. Not yet, at any rate.

Once the pilot had been securely bound, the male Knight pulled Atton up by his arm. "Let's go. The Council's waiting."

"Oh, it surely wouldn't do to keep them waiting," Atton dryly remarked under his breath.

The male Jedi scowled, but was prevented from speaking by the Twi'lek. "Just ignore him, Skywalker. We just need to get him up there."

Skywalker wordlessly nodded and shoved Atton none-too-gently out of the medical room.

* * *

Atton didn't need the Force to have a bad feeling about the upcoming interrogation that was waiting on the other side of the thick durasteel door. The two Knights beside him, silent the entire way from the healer's ward to the Council chamber, did nothing to reassure the pilot- not that Atton was expecting it. But he wasn't surprised when the two Knights accompanied him into the room when the large doors slid open, revealing a full Council of Jedi Masters. The human and the Twi'lek marched Atton into the middle of the room before bowing their heads to the Masters.

"Thank you, Knight Skywalker and Knight Secura," spoke a dark-skinned man on one of the seats. "Dismissed."

Both Knights inclined their heads to the Master before turning and exiting the room. Atton turned his head to watch both Jedi leave as the doors slid shut behind them, before noticing two Jedi not seated in Council chairs. He immediately recognized Keto, looking none the worse for wear save for a couple of bruises, standing beside the man who had driven Atton over the weakened section of the Temple roof. Keto's pretty face was creased with a frown, directed at Atton.

The pilot smirked at the female Jedi. "Y'know, I still haven't gotten that first name of yours yet, beautiful."

The young Jedi bristled. "And you can-" Whatever else Keto was going to say to Atton was cut off by the small green alien who had visited Atton in the medical ward.

"Your peace, you both will hold." The small Master looked up at Atton. "A report of the incident on the roof, Master Drallig and Knight Keto have given. Now, your story, we will hear."

"Let us start with a simple question," spoke an auburn-haired human man sitting a few seats to the green alien's right. "What is your name?"

Atton eyed Keto and the Master, presumably Drallig, before looking back at the human man. "The name's Atton. Atton Rand."

The Jedi all exchanged glances. "Atton... Rand?" repeated the dark-skinned Master sitting to the left of the green alien.

"Impossible," replied a white-haired Cerean Master. "Atton Rand was lost four thousand years ago in the destruction of Malachor V-"

"Wait, what? Four _thousand _years ago?" Atton suddenly found it slightly difficult to breathe. His chest felt like it was clenching into a tight fist around his heart and lungs. "It can't be- how long was I out for? Four days ago I was travelling to Malachor V with the Jedi Exile!"

The auburn-haired Master who'd asked Atton his name raised an eyebrow. "You claim to be _the_Atton Rand who spent the better part of ten years working as a Sith Assassin under Darth Revan before deserting and eventually becoming a Jedi under the tutelage of the Exile?"

"How do you know that?" Atton's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Master. "I make a habit of not telling people that."

"When one's life story has been recorded in the Archives for four thousand years, it tends to become fairly well-known," answered the dark-skinned Master in a dry tone of voice. "Now, who are you really?"

"I told you, I'm Atton Rand!" snapped the pilot.

"If you're really Atton Rand," said Drallig, who had up til now remained silent in the back, "what the kriff are you doing here? The real Atton Rand died four thousand years ago with Malachor V and the Sith Triumvirate."

"I didn't die at Malachor," said Atton, craning his neck over his shoulder to eye Drallig. "I was pulled into the black hole that Malachor was turning into while trying to escape Darth Sion. It tossed us out over Coruscant last night."

"Us?" Drallig's brow furrowed. Beside him, Keto was staring at Atton with open disbelief on her pretty face.

"Myself and Sion. Happy now?" Atton turned away from Drallig and Keto to watch the Council Masters exchange glances between each other. "Or would you like to pry through my mind some more?"

"... Darth Sion followed you through this black hole that you claim brought you four thousand years into the future from Malachor V to Coruscant?" The auburn-haired Master looked up at Atton, an unreadable emotion in his grey-blue eyes.

"How many times do I have to say it?" grumbled Atton. "Yes."

The Masters exchanged glances again. "If your story is true, 'Atton', this is a grave cause for concern. If Darth Sion is present now..." The Cerean looked at his fellow Masters, worry darkening his eyes.

"You will remain under guard here until we determine if your tale is indeed factual." The bald, dark Master drew himself up in his seat. "In the meantime, we will investigate what you have told us." He looked over Atton's shoulder. "Cin, you and Serra take him to the holding cell. Master Kenobi will accompany you with the codes."

Drallig and Keto both inclined their heads to the Masters before each taking one of Atton's arms and leading him out of the Council chambers. The auburn-haired Master, presumably Kenobi, followed suit, lightsabre hanging in full view on his belt.

Atton squirmed a bit in the tight grips of the Jedi before smirking down at Keto. "So, your first name's Serra?"

"Not to you," snapped Serra as she assisted Drallig in dragging Atton to the holding cell, purposefully stepping on the pilot's feet a few times.

"Awww, so I can't-"

"Might I strongly recommend that you shut up, 'Atton'?" said Kenobi as he accompanied the other Jedi and Atton through the Temple to a large durasteel door. Quickly entering a code on a pad beside the door, just out of Atton's range of vision, the Master stood back as the door slid open, revealing a row of Force cages.

"Please tell me I'm not going to jail again," groaned Atton as Drallig shoved him into a cage, undoing the binder cuffs just as Serra activated the force field. The pilot turned too slowly, realizing that the field was already too in-place for him to escape.

"We will consider your story and bring you before us when we are finished," said Kenobi as Drallig and Serra slipped past him. "In the meantime, I do hope your find your accommodations suitable." There was a dry, sarcastic undertone in the Master's voice as he eyed Atton.

"Oh, yes, splendid," muttered Atton. Under a scowl, he watched Kenobi turn and walk back to the main exit. He caught a glimpse of Serra lingering behind, eyeing him in disbelief and shaking her head at him, before the doors slid shut, leaving the pilot in near-silence, save for the soft humming of the cage.

Atton sighed and carefully sat, grateful that the cage was big enough to allow for that. He closed his eyes, trying to process this new information that he'd been told. _Four _thousand _years? How- it can't be! What happened to the Exile and the others?_

Without an ample supply of juma to steady his nerves, it took Atton a while to relax in his new prison.

* * *

**We shall try our darndest to have Chapter Four out at some point in the near-ish future. *nod***

**Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to make comments or suggestions- we like your ideas!**

**Xaja and Luthien**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: We still don't own Star Wars. If we did own it, Atton Rand would live in Jedi Master Luthien's closet, and Obi-Wan Kenobi would live under my bed. (And we might trade occasionally.) But we can dream...**

**And lo! We be updating sooner than last time! Be pleased, people. XD**

**emochild123456: This is set mid-Clone Wars- probably a few months before Episode III began. Ooooh... That would be cruel and evil of us to do that. Then, my characters already know I'm completely evil with them, so it's not out of the realm of possibility. *wink***  
**Thank you very much for the offer of your OC's! However, I'm leery about using other people's OC's for fear of mucking up their characterizations- that, and I'm trying to use as few OC's as possible in this fic. I'm still unsure as to whether I'm going to bring in my own OC Zara, Cin's first non-canonical apprentice. I'll have to decline your offer- but I do hope you enjoy the fic, even without the OC's! And thanks again for the offer!**

* * *

The Council didn't even wait for Obi-Wan to retake his seat after locking the intruder in his cell before the debate broke out.

"He cannot be Atton Rand!" declared Master Poof. "His story is simply too unbelievable! Master Rand died with Malachor V four thousand years ago!"

"His story is unbelievable," answered Saesee Tiin. "However, something within the Force rings true within him."

"You can't suggest that you believe him!" exclaimed Kit Fisto, staring at the other Councillor with open disbelief on his face.

"I don't fully believe his story. However, I believe we should not dismiss his entire tale as impossible without examining the evidence fully."

"I do agree with Master Tiin," answered Obi-Wan, "that the Force seems to support this scoundrel's story. I do not sense any lie within him."

"If Atton Rand this is, then most adept at hiding his intentions and thoughts, he is." spoke Master Yoda., frowning as he thoughtfully contemplated his gimmer stick.

"Atton Rand was a Jedi Master," Shaak Ti spoke up. "The man who attacked Master Drallig and Padawan Keto-"

"Acted in a manner that would befit Rand. You forget that he used to be a Sith Assassin in the employ of Darth Revan, and despite being trained by the Jedi Exile, Rand never developed a love for Jedi," said Mace Windu, folding his hands together under his chin. "If this is the real Atton Rand..."

"Then he has returned from the dead after four thousand years in what he claims is a black hole," stated Master Poof. "Impossible."

"But worth investigating," said Obi-Wan. "Is there any way that we can confirm if this is the real Atton Rand or an imposter?"

"There are ways that we could examine his memories," suggested Kit. "Or perhaps a truth serum or-"

"That will hardly endear him to us," said Master Tiin. "Rand was well-known for his animosity to ordained Jedi, the Exile being the only notable exception, and one of the reasons for his hatred of them was that he believed they had no qualms about forcing their way into another person's head for their own ends. That will not have changed, if this is he."

Kit frowned, deep in thought. "This is true. It is a pity we don't have a sample of Rand's DNA to test-"

"But we do." Mace pulled a datapad out of his pocket and began to rapidly type into it. "During a routine medical examination, Jedi Master Mical managed to get a sample of Rand's blood for analysis purposes. The original blood sample has long since been lost, but the genetic information of Atton Rand is still in the Archives." A few quick strokes brought up a holo of a long genetic code. "This is the genetic code of Atton Rand."

"May I?" Shaak took the datapad and studied the holo. "Amazing..."

"Even if the genetic code does match..." Master Poof stared at the holo, frowning. "The reports of the Exile and her companions stated that Rand died with Malachor V."

"Did they?" Yoda frowned. "Assumed it has been, that killed, Rand was. But explicitly said, was it?"

The Council sat still, searching their memories for any exact words from the long-ago Lost Jedi to damn the intruder's story. The silence was eventually broken by Kit standing up. "I do not recall the exact words of the Exile or her companions. I will go to the Archives and examine the records left behind."

"Very well, Master Fisto," said Mace, also standing. "And I will see about procuring a sample of this so-called Atton Rand's DNA for cross-analysis. Obi-Wan, come with me- I may need assistance. Council adjourned until evening."

"If this really is Atton Rand? You _will _need help getting that sample," muttered Obi-Wan as he followed Mace out of the Council chambers.

* * *

An hour later, Mace walked out of the containment unit, a swab containing Atton's saliva in a vial in his hand and an assortment of bruises on his person. True to Obi-Wan's estimate, the intruder had not appreciated having the Masters pin him down to get a sample of his genetic information, and had put up a good struggle. In the end, though, he hadn't been able to throw Obi-Wan off his back until after Mace had gotten the swab in and out of his mouth.

The dark-haired smuggler was now sitting in his cell, balefully glaring at Mace's back as the bald Councillor went to get the sample analyzed. Obi-Wan, having restored the force field around Atton's cell, was now sitting on a chair, typing into a computer and seemingly oblivious to the pilot's glare.

Atton scowled up at the grey ceiling. "Thtupid dwy mouf..."

"But a small price to pay if it means your story is verified, no?" The auburn-haired Master glanced over. "Do you want some water?"

Atton nodded, and watched as the Jedi moved behind the containment cell. A small door opened in the back of the cell beside the field generator, just large enough for a glass of water to be slid through. Trying to not look too grateful, Atton accepted the glass and downed the water. "Thanks," he managed once his thirst had been satiated.

"You're welcome." Obi-Wan moved back to his seat and glanced back at the computer, before his gaze drifted back to Atton. The Jedi looked as though he had many questions for Atton- Atton only had a couple for the Jedi. But he was not about to speak first.

An awkward silence lingered for several minutes before Obi-Wan spoke. "You said you travelled with the Jedi Exile for two years..."

"It's not a claim. I was her pilot for two years."

"I never said you were lying. What was that like, to be one of her first protegees? To help her destroy the Sith Triumvirate?"

Atton closed his eyes, recalling his memories from the last two years. "Never boring. She had an uncanny talent for attracting the worst sorts of trouble. Most people would have left her a long time ago."

"But you didn't. Was that due to Darth Traya?"

Atton shrugged in response to the Master's query. "Shouldn't you know all of this if it's in the Archives?"

"Not all of the details of the Lost Jedi were preserved over four thousand years, Rand. In the Exile's memoirs, she mentioned something about Traya blackmailing you into staying, but the details of that were lost."

"And it's not something that needs to be remembered." How was Atton supposed to explain to this Jedi, especially one talking to him through a force cage, that he'd stayed after confessing his sins to the Exile because he loved her, even though he knew her heart belonged to another? He'd never know why Tirana chose Mical over him, nor would he know why he'd stayed, as though trying to convince her to change her mind.

_Tirana... _Atton opened his eyes and looked back at Obi-Wan. "What happened to her?"

"The Exile?" Obi-Wan paused for a moment, remembering what he'd most likely learned as a Padawan. "Tirana Pedaenrev stayed with the Jedi she'd trained- except yourself, of course- for five more years, long enough to help re-establish the Jedi Order at the Enclave on Dantooine. Then she took the _Ebon Hawk _and went into the Unknown Regions to find Darth Revan and aid him in defeating the True Sith."

Atton looked back down into his lap as Obi-Wan quietly finished, "Neither she nor Revan were ever seen or heard from again."

* * *

"_Not all of us are on board. One of us is missing."_

"_Who's not- ATTON! T3, stop! We need to go back for him!"_

"_We can't, woman! Keep flying, droid. We need to get away from the planet."_

"_But we can't leave Atton, Mandalore! We-"_

"_There! See, Tirana? There's a starfighter leaving Malachor over there!"_

"_No, Mira; there's two, and one of them is Sion."_

"_But the other one's Rand! See? He's fine!"_

"_Oh, thank the- Oh no. Oh, Sith, no!"_

"_That settles it. Get us out of here, T3! I'll boost the hyperdrive- we are NOT going into that black hole!"_

"_NO! We can't leave him!"_

"_Tira, stop fighting me! It's too late to save Atton!"_

"_No, Mical! We can't- No!"_

"Well, Atton Rand did get pulled into a black hole with Darth Sion. That part of the prisoner's story is correct, at least." Jocasta Nu ended the recording of the security footage that had been preserved from the _Ebon Hawk_four thousand years ago, during the Exile's escape from Malachor V.

"But he couldn't have survived it. It's impossible." Kit stubbornly shook his head. "I've never heard of a black hole transporting someone through space and time like this man claims happened to him."

"That does not mean it could never have happened." Jocasta started browsing through more records left behind by the Exile and the crew of the _Ebon Hawk_. "Here- you may find this one to be of interest."

Kit leaned a bit closer as a holo image of the Jedi Exile herself appeared. Her recorded voice sounded strained and shaky, as though she were holding back tears. "_No one has seen or heard from either Atton or Darth Sion since Malachor V was destroyed. The last anyone saw of them, they were being dragged into the black hole in front of us. I still don't know how Bao-Dur and T3-M4 got us out of there."_

The human woman looked down, away from the holo projector, before looking back up. "_I can't believe he's gone. He doesn't feel dead. I don't know how to describe it, but... there's not an broken bond in my mind where he used to be, like with the- the others. He's not there, but it's like he's a very great distance away, or hiding or something. Mical and Visas both say that he's dead, that he couldn't have survived. But I can't believe that. It would feel differently if he were dead."_ The Exile touched her temple, as though to reinforce her point. "_I can only hope that one day he'll turn up again."_

Jocasta turned in her seat to look at Kit. "The records from the other Lost Jedi state that he must have died in the black hole. The Exile was the only one who doubted that he was dead."

"Denial due to emotional attachment, more than likely." Kit frowned at the empty space where the Jedi Exile's image had stood only moments earlier.

"And yet she had the closest bond to him out of the rest of the people she travelled with. Emotional attachment notwithstanding, I believe she would have known if he were truly dead or not."

"Do you... believe that the man we have in the containment unit is actually Atton Rand himself?"

"I believe, Master Fisto, that you should not jump to conclusions before ruling out all other possibilities. People also said that the Sith were extinct- try telling that to Master Jinn or Master Kenobi. And people most likely once said that hyperspace travel was impossible, and lightsabres could not be created, and the Force was not real." Jocasta gathered up the datapads that she and Kit had studied in their search for evidence to prove or damn Atton's claim. "If the Sith can return after several thousand years, who is to say that a man could not survive such an event as what Rand claims he did?"

* * *

In the laboratory, Mace Windu stared in disbelief at the data scrolling across the screen in front of him. "Impossible," he whispered. "It can't be true."

* * *

**So, the muse is being annoying. So's Darth Real-Life. I have no idea when the next chapter will be up- it depends on when Jedi Master Luthien and I have the time to go hunt down the muse and write. With university coming up soon, that might take a while.**

**Anyway. Thanks for the reviews- do keep them coming, we like hearing what you have to say! All advice and ideas are welcomed!**

**And thanks for reading. We do this for you and- Okay, we write this for our own enjoyment too. But we get motivated by you. XD**

**Xaja and Luthien**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer****: ****We ****still ****don****'****t ****own ****Star ****Wars****. ****If ****we ****did****, ****Atton ****Rand ****would ****liv****e ****in ****Jedi ****Master ****Luthien****'****s ****closet****, ****and ****Obi****-****Wan ****Kenobi ****would ****live ****under ****my ****bed****. (****And ****we ****might ****trade ****occasionally****.) ****But ****we ****can ****dream****...**

**Luthien ****and ****I ****would ****like ****to ****sincerely ****apologize ****to ****everyone ****who****'****s ****been ****anxiously ****waiting ****on ****updates ****for ****the ****last ****year ****or ****so****. ****In ****our ****defence****, ****Darth ****Real ****Life ****(****whose ****favourite ****weapons ****include ****university ****workloads****, ****theatre ****practicums****, ****boyfriends****, ****jobs****, ****laptops ****which ****won****'****t ****run ****KOTOR ****II ****at ****school****, ****and ****absentee ****muses****) ****has ****succeeded ****in ****making ****us ****unable ****to ****give ****any ****thought ****to ****this ****story****.**

**With ****any ****luck****, ****we****'****ll ****try ****to ****hold ****DRL ****off ****for ****a ****bit ****longer****! ****The ****school ****year****'****s ****over****, ****the ****jobs ****haven****'****t ****shown ****themselves****, ****the ****friends ****are ****elsewhere ****in ****the ****world ****and ****we ****might ****have ****a ****muse****. ****Possibly****. ****XD**

**Mreaca****: ****Thank ****you ****so ****much ****for ****your ****review****! ****I****'****m ****glad ****you ****think ****we****'****ve ****got ****Atton****'****s ****characterization ****about ****perfect****. ****A ****Sidious****/****Sion ****showdown ****or ****partnership ****would ****be ****fun****... ****it****'****s ****a ****plot ****device ****Luthien ****and ****I ****are ****still ****pondering****. ****And ****lo****, ****for ****there ****IS ****an ****update****! ****XD**

**Sexyninjalady****: ****Thank ****you****! ****We ****shall ****endeavour ****to ****continue ****to ****blow ****you ****away****!**

* * *

Ten of the seats on the Council were filled when Mace Windu walked back into the chamber. He glanced around, noting who was present. "Where's Obi-Wan?"

"He's still with the prisoner," answered Agen Kolar, adjusting his seat on his chair. "What have you learned, Master Windu?"

Mace knelt beside the holo projector in the middle of the room and sighed, running a hand over his own face. "I'll let you see for yourself." He held up his datapad, with the genetic information he'd collected safely stored, before he began to hook up the datapad to the projector. "What did you find, Kit?"

Kit Fisto shook his head. "Records from the _Ebon __Hawk_ indicate that Rand didn't survive. None of the Lost Jedi ever heard from or saw him again, or Darth Sion. For all that the records indicate, he could have gone to join Revan and the Exile in the Unknown Regions."

"That's every bit as improbable as this prisoner's story," muttered Shaak Ti. "What are your thoughts, Master Drallig?"

Cin Drallig had been standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed and a frown on his face. "This man's fighting style was, admittedly, similar to what Rand preferred, if the records I studied from the _Ebon __Hawk_'s security recordings are any indication. I've made a hobby of studying the styles of the old Masters over the years, and this intruder's style was remarkably similar to Rand's. I looked at the older footage again today, and it matches, near as I can tell."

"Hmm." Master Yoda rested a clawed hand on his gimmer stick, gazing around the chamber. "And what do you have, Master Windu? Hmm?"

Having connected the datapad to the projector, Mace stiffly rose and walked to his seat, heavily sitting down. "See for yourself, Masters." He tapped a button on the remote he carried, bringing up the historical record of Atton Rand's genes. "This is the genetic code we held in the Archives for four thousand years."

Nods from around the circle of Jedi. They knew this.

Mace tapped another button, bringing up a second genetic code. "This is the prisoner's genetic information, gathered and analyzed today." He tapped the button again. The Council watched in disbelief as the codes merged and a soft beep sounded. "It's a match."

No one spoke for several minutes. Coleman Kcaj finally opened his mouth, his words slow and hesitant. "This... we have..."

"Atton Rand." Mace shook his head. "I can't believe the results myself, but the codes don't lie. We have Atton Rand himself sitting in our containment cell."

There was a soft thump as Cin slipped down the wall, landing on his backside, eyes fixed on the hologram in the centre of the chamber. "How...? It's impossible!"

"Evidently not," mused Master Tiin, staring at the hologram.

"But surely we should have felt something through the Force," protested Master Plo Koon. "If this man's story is true and we do have Atton Rand in custody, with Darth Sion somewhere in the general vicinity of Coruscant, we should have sensed it!"

"Argued, it could be," spoke up Yoda, "that sensed the re-emergence of the Sith before the battle of Naboo and Master Jinn's death, we should have."

Master Koon moved as though to argue the older Jedi's point, before he frowned and paused. "That... that is true, Master. But hidden Sith are one thing- a man travelling through space and time is something else entirely! No one else, Jedi or no, has ever done such a thing!"

Kit Fisto shrugged. "I suppose there must be a first for everything?"

"Even if that 'everything' involves the return of a man thought dead for four thousand years, and a Sith Lord who could only be defeated by the Jedi Exile herself?" Master Kcaj shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"On that topic," spoke up Mace, "what are we to do now if the story is true and Darth Sion is here? We can hardly call on Tirana Pedaenrev and her Jedi protegees to stop him, nor can we count on Darth Traya restraining him. Should he attack the Temple or join forces with this Darth Sidious..."

"With any luck," said Kit, "he'll likely be as disoriented as Rand was, perhaps even more so, to find himself four thousand years away from Malachor V. And he does not have the resources of the old Sith fleet at his disposal this time, nor will he have a set target upon which to fix his wrath."

"But he will have a target, if the story is correct," said Master Mundi, who had remained quiet until this point. "He especially hated Atton Rand and Mical, out of all of the Exile's companions. If and when he learns where he is and where Rand is, he'll surely come after Rand, now that Master Mical is dead." He paused. "Unless, of course, there are rumours that Master Mical did not die a natural death, but vanished and could just as easily show up today on our doorstep? On that note, should we prepare for the re-appearance of Darth Revan himself?"

Stass Allie rolled her eyes and shot Kit a glare as he snorted a laugh. "This is no laughing matter. Master Mical died in this Temple- his ashes are still buried in the sublevels." She hesitated. "Although no one knows if Revan himself actually died..."

"Enough, that is." Yoda thumped the end of his gimmer stick on the floor to regain order over the meeting. "Unlikely would Revan's return be. One problem we will focus on now."

"Yes," said Mace, "what is to be done with Atton Rand? His story is, for all intensive purposes, confirmed, but it still stands that he attacked a Jedi Padawan and her Master."

Cin nodded his agreement, a scowl appearing on his face. Mace noticed that the Battlemaster was moving a little stiffly today- the Force Lightning that Rand had called down on him had left a lingering effect on him.

"There is also the question of how we should deal with the possibility of another Sith Lord, one potentially more dangerous than Sidious, in the galaxy," said Master Kolar. "Darth Sion is not a force to be lightly reckoned with."

"Understood." Mace dropped his head into his hands, wishing that the Force hadn't so abruptly twisted life around the Temple even more. "In regards to Atton Rand's emergence and subsequent attack on Padawan Serra Keto and Master Cin Drallig, I propose..."

* * *

"So, what do you Jedi do for entertainment around here?"

Kenobi glanced over at Atton from his vantage point on the console chair. "You mean, when we're not training students or leading clones into war with the Separatists? In this thing that you would likely call 'spare time'?"

"... Point taken." Atton gingerly stretched out his arms, taking care to not touch the Force cage barriers. "How long has this war been going on?"

"About three years at this point." Kenobi sighed and stood up, idly pacing around the room. "This is actually the most 'spare time' I've had since the war's started- it's been an entire month since I was called away from the Temple."

"That bad, huh?" Atton rolled his shoulders, wishing he could move more freely.

"Worse." Kenobi made a face. "I suppose you know what wartime efforts are like, after your participation in the Mandalorian War and Jedi Civil War..."

"To a certain degree." Atton shrugged. "Not like I was a Jedi General or anything..."

"Just a pilot and an assassin, hmm?"

"You know, it's really unnerving to meet someone who knows one's entire history without me telling them," said Atton, adding "bloody Jedi" under his breath.

"I heard that, Rand. But I can imagine that would be rather disconcerting." Kenobi sat back down, eyeing his prisoner. "You can thank your friends from the _Ebon __Hawk_ for that."

"You mean Blondie- er, Mical?"

"No, I meant Tirana. She was the one who recorded your history, such as you described it, into the Archives."

_If __she __wasn__'__t __Tira__, __I__'__d __hate __her__._ Atton scowled, before jumping in surprise as the door unexpectedly slid open.

"A little jumpy today?" The Knight called Skywalker entered the room and smirked at Atton.

"Why don't you come a little closer and we'll see about that," growled Atton, glaring at the blond Jedi.

"Anakin, behave," said Kenobi, in a tone that suggested this was an order given countless times over the years. Atton wondered if Skywalker had been Kenobi's Padawan as a teenager, before the Master turned to him. "Rand, ignore him."

"Yes, Obi-Wan," muttered Skywalker automatically, before adding in a normal tone of voice, "The Council wants to see him now." The younger man produced a set of binder cuffs from behind his back as he spoke.

"Ah." Kenobi gave Atton a meaningful glance as he turned toward the console for the force cage. Resigned to his immediate fate, Atton turned and placed his hands behind his back, allowing Skywalker to place the binders on his wrists before walking out of the cell.

He heard Kenobi speaking to Skywalker in an undertone behind his back. "Have you heard anything from them?"

"No, Master. Master Windu doesn't see fit to inform me of everything that the Council discusses."

A warning tone of voice. "Anakin..."

"Sorry, Master. But it's true- I've not heard anything. They might just be waiting for you."

"Very well. I suppose we'll discover the Council's findings in a few minutes." Kenobi took Atton's arm to escort him out of the cell. "Come, Atton."

"Do I really have a choice?" asked Atton dryly as he left the containment unit, flanked on either side by an armed Jedi.

* * *

"We have deliberated your story and compared it to our records in the Archives," said the dark-skinned Master- Windu, Atton remembered- in the Council chamber. "The results are... surprising." He paused for a split second. "- Master Rand."

"The evidence we have collected supports your story, such as it is," said the female Torgruta Master. "We are willing to accept that you are the Atton Rand of historical record, who trained under the Jedi Exile Tirana Pedaenrev."

"Thank you," muttered Atton dryly.

"Appreciated, your sarcasm is not," warned the green midget with the walking stick. "Atton Rand you may be, but excused for your attack on two Jedi, you are not."

_She __started __it__!_ complained Atton to himself, thinking a whole assortment of curses at Keto. His attention was diverted by Kenobi raising an eyebrow- evidently his shields had slipped a bit within the last few days.

"You are to remain in the Temple under guard," said a female Tholothian Master. "You will be restricted to certain areas of the Temple, and will be accompanied by at least one Jedi Knight at all times. You will be permitted no weapons, and you will be kept on Force-suppressants until such time as the Council sees fit. Your lightsabres and blasters have been confiscated until the Council decrees otherwise. Also, you will not make an active attempt to seek out Padawan Keto or Master Drallig, unless to apologize."

_Force__-__suppressants__? __That __explains __a __bit__- __wait__, __apologize__? __To __Keto__? _Atton made a face. "As long as I'm not going back to jail again..."

"That's still a viable option, Rand, should you violate these terms." Windu settled back in his seat. "Any instance of you disobeying our decision will result in re-imprisonment in the containment unit for an undetermined length of time."

"As well," said the Cerean Master, "you will be asked to give us any information on Darth Sion that you can. If he is present in this time period, it cannot bode well for anyone here, Jedi or civilian."

Atton thought about that for a moment. He disliked the thought of actually having to work with Jedi, especially the High Council. But Sion was a serious threat... if he'd survived Tirana's attempt to kill him and the destruction of Malachor V, it would certainly require the effort of the entire Jedi Order to stop him. The pilot eventually shrugged. "Fair enough. Though I'm pretty sure your records should tell you anything you need to know about him."

"Records are one thing," said the Iktotchi Master. "First-hand experience is another thing entirely. You may have some insight into Sion that the Exile's records neglected to mention. As well, you have fought him personally and lived to tell about it- you are more familiar with him than we are."

Atton shrugged, not really wanting to actually admit that the Jedi was right. "How long did you say this 'house arrest' was going to last?"

"Until we decide otherwise." Windu steepled his fingers before him. "Any other questions?"

The smuggler thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"Good." Windu glanced to his fellow Councillors. "Masters Kenobi and Fisto will escort you to the quarters you have been granted, and further explain the boundaries of your restriction. Council adjourned."

In one fluid motion, the Jedi rose and proceeded to the door, Kenobi and a Nautolan Jedi pausing by Atton. "If you'll come this way, Master Rand," said the Nautolan, presumably Fisto, as he took Atton's arm.

With an exaggerated rolling of his eyes, Atton allowed himself to be led off by the Masters. "Eh, you're better than most of the other Jedi I've met. You at least pretend to be compassionate."

"We try," said Fisto with a grin as he and Kenobi led Atton to the turbolift. "I imagine four thousand years is time for a bit of change within the Order, hmm?"

"With Jedi?" Atton snorted.

"I think I resent that." Fisto shook his head at Kenobi tapped at the buttons on the turbolift before glancing at a datapad in his hand.

"In any case," interjected the human Master, reading from the datapad, "you're being given temporary quarters a few floors down. It's been strongly encouraged-" and here he fixed Atton with a look "-that you keep to these quarters for the duration of your house arrest. Should you wish to explore a bit within the limits of your restrictions, there will be at least one Jedi Knight or Master around."

"Great," muttered Atton. "Anywhere the Council has decreed I can't go?"

"The hangers and starship area, for one," spoke up Fisto. "You also won't be allowed in the lightsabre maintenance areas, the creche, or in any training salles except the weapons-free ring. You were trained in Echani, right?" The alien gave Atton a sideways look.

"Why do you bother asking me so many questions when your Archives already have everything you want to know?" Atton scowled.

"It's called 'attempts at polite conversation'." Fisto shook his head. "In any case, you'll likely have people wanting to learn a bit of the Echani forms- they've fallen out of regular use in modern times."

Kenobi nodded. "Also, expect to be told to assist in Temple maintenance and repairs. After the last battle on Coruscant, the roof took a few hits- as you discovered when you were trying to duel Master Drallig- and a few of the upper levels are under repair."

"Don't you people have droids? They have to be useful for something!"

"Yes, but we also believe in instilling work ethics among rambunctious Padawans and Knights, and physical labour is a good learning experience." Kenobi grinned and gave Atton's arm an unnecessary tug as the lift doors opened.

"Sadists." Atton shook his head as he followed the Jedi down the corridor, past the curious looks of a few Knights and senior-looking Padawans.

Kenobi and Fisto both gave Atton a _look_, which abruptly reminded the pilot that he was not the only person present who knew of all the crimes he'd committed before meeting Tirana. He had the grace to at least look ashamed of himself as Fisto opened a door to a small apartment. As far as what Atton expected Jedi quarters to look like, it was surprisingly nice, if simple- a sleep couch, a table, two chairs, a meditation stool, and a small set of drawers to hold any other possessions a Jedi might own. A door on the wall led to what Atton presumed to be the refresher. A counter stood against one wall, which could likely double as a workbench. "This is definitely a step up from a force cage."

"We thought so." The tension in the pilot's shoulders suddenly eased as Kenobi removed the binder cuffs. Gingerly stretching the muscles, Atton listened with half an ear to the human Master's final instructions regarding his house arrest.

"Yeah, sure, got it." Atton thought he should say "Thanks" as the Masters left the apartment, but kept his mouth shut. _Damn __Tira__'__s __lessons __on __Jedi __propriety __getting __to __me__. __What__, __did __she __actually __think __I __would __turn __polite__? __What __do __I __have __to __thank __the __Jedi __for __anyway__, __not __executing __me__?_

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Atton investigated the contents of the drawers and 'fresher, a habit he'd gotten into while travelling with Tirana. There wasn't much- a new datapad on the table, a spare set of Jedi robes that looked like he'd fit them, a couple of medpacs and a comlink. Atton mused to himself that it was certainly better than he'd expected from Jedi- maybe some fundamental principles of the Order had changed over the last four thousand years.

_Four __thousand __years__... __Everything__'__s __changed__..._ Atton heavily sat on the edge of the sleep couch and rested his head in his hands. _Tira__, __Bao__-__Dur__, __Visas__, __Mandalore__, __Mira__, __even __Blondie__... __They__'__re __all __gone__._

And with his midichlorians suppressed by the Jedi, he couldn't even reach into the Force to find his former companions.

Atton wasn't normally one given to feeling sorry for himself or wishing for familiar faces. But at that moment, he would have given anything for a chance to see Tirana, or his other friends from the _Ebon __Hawk_- hell, even Mical.

But that wouldn't help his situation at all. Grimly setting his jaw, Atton abruptly stood up and grabbed the datapad, scrolling through to see if the Jedi had helpfully left a layout of the Temple for him to access. There had to be some way to escape the Temple- even if it meant he had to comply with restrictions on his movement and Force access for the moment, he was not going to stay here, surrounded by crazy Jedi, and wait for Darth Sion to figure out where he was.

A small part of him, the part that had loved Tira and still wanted to serve a greater good, whispered that he was making the Temple a target for Sion to attack the rest of the Jedi Order. But the larger part of him, the part that focused on his own survival, murmured that Nar Shaddaa would still be a safe refuge where not even Sion could find him. Let the Jedi fight their long-time nemesis! He wanted nothing to do with this war anymore.

Opening up a journal application on the datapad, Atton began to type out a tentative plan for escape from the Jedi.

* * *

**And ****again****, ****we ****apologize ****profusely ****for ****the ****obscenely ****long ****delay ****in ****posting ****this****! ****Alas****, ****we ****can****'****t ****say ****when ****we****'****ll ****be ****able ****to ****get ****another ****chapter ****out****... ****might ****be ****next ****week****, ****might ****be ****next ****semester****. ****Depends ****on ****muses ****and ****time ****and ****stuff ****like ****that****.**

**But ****yes****. ****Thanks ****for ****reading****- ****if ****we ****still ****have ****followers ****out ****there****!**

**Xaja ****and ****Luthien**


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